


Guild Wars: Dragonslayers

by HeraLedro



Category: Guild Wars (Video Game), Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-23 20:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11409783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeraLedro/pseuds/HeraLedro
Summary: Tyria needs heroes, but heroes don't just appear out of thin air. Heroes are forged through hardship, happiness, compassion, and tragedy. Follow the journey of the Blood Legion's very own Dark warband as they strike alliances, triumph against their enemies, and forge themselves from grunts of the Steel warband to Tyria's very own Dragonslayers!





	1. Prologue

"STORY TIME!"

"Oh boy, is mister Vallus gonna tell us another story?"

"Yeah let's go!"

I must say that even for the norn, the crowd leaving the great city-steading of Hoelbrak was impressive. Easily twenty, maybe even more than thirty. But for the norn, who above all else valued the forging and telling of legends, the prospect of hearing a new legend was too great to ignore.

I first heard of the norn...oh, it must have been at least fifty years ago, when I was still in the fahrar. To hear my primus tell it, the norn were just giant humans. By the claw did he ever undersell them. They're huge, tall and enough muscle that you'd swear they could bust a boulder just by looking at it! They rival my kind in size and strength, though the current arena championship belt remains in charr paws in Smokestead, thank you very much.

But enough about that, back to the crowd that I can see and hear clearly from my plateau. I guess it was time to tell them a story.

As the crowd assembles around my steading, a pair of norn come forth to try and help as I sit into a chair. "Bah," I wave them off, "I'm not so old I can't sit on my own tail you know." I plop my rear into the comfortable leather chair I had built with my cub and her husband years ago. "There we go. Now tell me, what do you want to hear today?"

"Dragons!"

"A legend!"

A boy jumped up and down excitedly. "Ooo, oo, tell us about that pendant on your neck!"

I turn down to look at the glistening emerald-embossed orichalcum pendant hanging around my neck and lift it up. The sun glints off the golden-bronze metal and catches the emerald, and I cannot help but smile. "This? It's from my last mate. But I've told you that story many times!"

"You want to hear a legend?" The norn all jumped and shouted at my question. "Why don't I tell you the greatest legend of all?" Another shout, louder than the first, and my smile widened. "Let me tell you about the Dragonslayers of Tyria!"

I laugh and cover my ears as the shout resounds off the mountains. I wave them all down and they all sit and kneel before me. I hold my staff to the left and lean forward, holding my hand low to the ground. As I raise it slowly, threads and ribbons of magenta light flow through my clawtips. As the light forms into shapes, the crowd takes in an eager breath. The threads twist and turn until before me stands the shimmering shape of a female charr. My illusion bows, lowering its horned head in a salute. I raise her again with a happy grin shining on her face. "This...is my daughter."

"For most charr," I begin, "the child is the responsibility of the fahrar. We do not tell their stories. Family is not given, as it is for the norn or humans. For the charr, family is earned. In the fahrar, we build bonds through blood, sweat, and tears; we believe that the bonds of battle exceed the bonds of blood.

"Shortly after her birth, no more than a year or so, her mother and I brought her to the Fahrar of Young Heroes in the charr capital: the Black Citadel." I drew my hand forward again and what was once my daughter distorted and reformed into a large ball of iron surrounded by platforms and metalwork. "Though I am of the Blood Legion, the Citadel had always been my home. We decided that it was to be my daughter's as well."

"Is your daughter the dragonslayer?" a young girl interrupted.

"No, now hush. There is no dragonslayer."

"What? But you said-"

"If you think only on what I said, you will never hear what I say," I advise the girl. To the crowd I say, "Let me tell you how my daughter helped forge the world into dragonslayers.

"My daughter's given name is Hafwen. I'm told that even in the fahrar she was a gifted marksman and beast master. She was quick, funny, witty, but she was an undeniable trouble-maker. Always out after curfew, hunting for new ingredients for the crazy concoctions that she called cooking." With another wave of my hand, the shimmering facsimile of the Black Citadel shattered. The pieces came together like shards of glass, forming into tall iron silos. "This story begins when a new cub came to the fahrar. His name is Ferrus.

"Ferrus was not like Hafwen. If Hafwen was loud, Ferrus was quiet. Hafwen enjoyed the outdoors, while Ferrus loved to tinker at his workbench, very odd for any charr of the Blood Legion. Unlike Hafwen, Ferrus was a runt." I shatter the illusion again and came together in the shape of a stocky charr with a striped hide and downward-turning hook-shaped horns, but significantly shorter than my representation of Hafwen earlier. "He was not originally of the Fahrar of Young Heroes, but was brought there because the warband from his previous fahrar had abused him." Many of the norn booed at this, and I nodded. "Yes, it is a shame. Ferrus was a talented engineer, even when he was young."

A norn in the front frowned and looked at me. "I...I've heard these names befo-OW!"

The moment he had spoken I grabbed my staff and brought the thick head of it down on his skull. "No spoilers!" I growl, poking him in the gut. "Or next time I'll put you to sleep!

"Now, with that very rude interruption out of the way, let me get back to my story. So it was that Ferrus was brought into my daughter's warband. I am very proud to say that it was an exceptional warband. They were all talented in their chosen professions." Before me the illusion melts and splits, shaping itself into a male and female charr with staves in one hand and fire in the other. "Forge and Euryale were the elementalists of the team - they could sling a fireball at you faster than you could blink!" Next I shaped the illusions into two striped males with thick horns and short stature. "Rowan and Dinky, both of which were runts, had chosen to study the way of the guardians. Guardians are rare among the charr - most seek glory through more aggressive professions like warriors, rangers, and elementalists - but the few that exist are well-known for being powerful." Both imated horns. "You would never know Arteus was a necromancer meeting him. His laugh is as loud and hearty as old Knut's was, though he was an antagonistic little hellspawn as a child. Adulthood really tamed him." Arteus' form split again, this time into three charr: a female and two males. "Finally we have Reeva, Maverick, and Clawspur. In the fahrar, Reeva was Hafwen's best friend, cooking assistant, and partner in crime. If one was in trouble, it was unlikely that the other was far behind. I am told that Maverick was a skilled warrior with a head the size of the citadel and the heart to match. Clawspur was sneakier than most Blood Legion, quiet, but bluntly honest and practical."

"Mister Vallus, could you tell us about the legions?"

"Sure. My legion was Blood Legion. The Blood Legion are the soldiers which spearhead all the operations of the charr alliance. We are both the muscle and the strategists, with minds and blades forged through war. The Iron Legion are the alliance's most skilled engineers and mechanists. Even the Asura travel from Rata Sum to study Iron Legion metalworking and weaponry. The Ash Legion is the shadow of the alliance: they are the assassins, thieves, and diplomats. If you hear an Ash soldier coming, their blade has already slit your neck.

"Because her mother and I were Blood Legion, we enrolled Hafwen in the Blood Legion court of the fahrar. When they graduated the fahrar, their warband was absorbed into the larger Steel warband. Rowan took the name of Rowan Steelslash and was given the rank of Lieutenant, along with command of his warband. As their arm of the warband distinguished themselves in campaigns against the ghosts of Ascalon and the treacherous Flame Legion they garnered awards and recognition, but their Legionnaire - a brute of a charr named Urvan Steelbane - refused to promote them or recognize their efforts.

"And so we come to the beginning of our story," I say. "So listen carefully." I thrust out a hand and shatter the illusion before me, dust shimmering in the air until it swirled together above us all to form a pale purple dome. The dome filtered the sun, darkening the area as I leaned forward, a small ball of light floating between myself and the audience, casting shadows with its deep pink light. "We are charr. We are godless. We stand triumphant over the ruins of Ascalon. Born into battle, we are relentless, unyielding. But we are more."


	2. Chapter 1

Hafwen was a young charr. She was pale-furred. Brown horns that she had not yet grown into swept back alongside her head. She was tenacious, funny, optimistic, and caring.

And she was in a world of trouble.

Before her stood Primus Sharphorn, and on the floor between the two laid the fresh corpse of a doe that Hafwen had slain not an hour ago. Sharphorn leaned against his metal desk with one hand, tapping his claws as he glared down at the balking teenage charr with a stalker cub mewling and hiding behind her. In the position Hafwen was in, those steel-tipped bull horns looked especially foreboding.

Tap.

"Oh come on, sir," Hafwen whined, "It's just one kill and it's not even that late! I-"

"You," the primus growled. "Yes, you. That's the problem, Hafwen, is you! Fifth night in the last three weeks you've been caught sneaking out after curfew, and it's the fourth time you were caught hunting."

"But I need it to make venison! That crap the cooks give is barely tolerable!"

"The Fahrar of Young Heroes is not a five-star restaurant," Sharphorn said flatly.

"I could make it one!"

Hafwen jumped as Sharphorn's fist slammed on the table. "Dammit Hafwen, did you even think about what could have happened? There are ghosts out there that would hunt you down as soon as look at you, not to mention Flame Legion spies that would happily grab a cub like you and cart them off to cook for them."

"At least they'd appreciate the cooking," Hafwen muttered, averting her eyes.

"This. Is not. A joke." Sharphorn closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "How would your warband feel if you didn't come back? Arteus? Rowan? Maverick?" He knelt down and tilted Hafwen's face away from the deer corpse to look him in the eye. "I'm trying to tell you not to take risks like these. If you were starving and needed food, then by all means: you need to survive. But right now that's not what this is about. You're taking an unnecessary risk that affects everyone else. I-" A far of knock sounded, interrupting the primus' lecture. He huffed and jabbed a claw at the ground. "Stay put." Hafwen watched him walk past her and shut the office door, followed soon by the grinding of the fahrar gates.

There were muffled voices beyond the door, but try as she might, Hafwen couldn't make out what they were saying. She started to lean against the door, but heard the fahrar gates grind shut once more. In spite of Strider's insistent mewling, she kept her right ears pressed against the door, but once she heard the scraping of the door latch, she jumped and stepped back to her original standing position in front of the doe corpse.

Primus Sharphorn stalked into the room carrying a small binder of papers. Following closely behind him was a smaller charr cub wearing a dirty grey travelling cloak and a rucksack, male and clearly younger than Hafwen. Even for his age, he was broad and stocky, with an oversized pair of downward-pointing hook-shaped horns, each twice as thick as Hafwen's. Though he followed the primus into the room, his eyes never left the floor.

The primus walked behind his desk and directed the young cub to stand beside Hafwen. The rucksack on the cub's back clattered as he moved to do so. Sharphorn looked at Hafwen and gestured to the cub beside her. "Hafwen, this is Ferrus. He's a transfer from another fahrar, and I'm assigning him to your warband. Tomorrow, you are to be his guide. Is that understood?"

Hafwen nodded. "Yes, sir." She held her hand out to the cub and smiled. "Heya, I'm Hafwen. Nice to meetcha Ferrus."

Ferrus looked up past the greasy black mane framing his eyes and shook Hafwen's hand. "Hi..." he mumbled.

"Ferrus, could you please wait outside for a moment?" Sharphorn asked. "Hafwen will be out to take you to their dormitories in a moment." Ferrus nodded and turned to leave, closing the door quietly behind him. Sharphorn turned back to Hafwen. "Ferrus was brought here because, as you can tell, he's a runt. The other fahrar he was in...wasn't very good for him. His warband picked him apart." He sighed. "I don't need to tell you how that is wrong. It is your responsibility to ensure that it does not happen here."

"Understood, primus."

"Good. Take Strider and go, I will place your kill in the freezer." Hafwen did not need to be told twice. The door was open with Hafwen through it in a trice. Ferrus stood to the side of the door, kicking at the dirt with his claws. It caught him entirely by surprise when Hafwen grabbed his wrist and ran with him towards the barracks, in spite of his protests.

"Come on, kiddo," she huffed, "Sooner we're away from old Crankyhorn the better!"

* * *

The two did not stop on their way to the dormitories. Thus it was no surprise that Ferrus, not being in such excellent shape as the energetic female pulling him along, was soon out of breath. "W...wait..." he huffed as his feet started to drag. "I...I can't..."

No sooner did Hafwen stop than Ferrus dropped to his knees and paws, huffing quick, desperate breaths. "Jeez kid," Hafwen muttered, "We'll have to get you into better shape. But no biggy, we're here anyways! Come on in!"

Ferrus rose so that he was kneeling and staring ahead at the small barracks before him. Hafwen held open the cloth fabric that lead into the iron-walled structure. "Um...okay."

As Ferrus stood and walked through the doorway, Hafwen placed a claw to her lips and said, "Better take off that pack and leave it here by the door, we don't want the clanking to wake up the others." She followed Ferrus into the dormitory. For his part, Ferrus obeyed and followed Hafwen towards the bunks. "I'll show you the gang before we get to bed."

The dormitories were made entirely of iron-ringed cots, nothing but taught cloth latched onto thick metal bars. Their first stop brought them to a cot with a small, stocky charr with grey fur and dark grey tiger stripes that looked as though he was about to fall out of his cot. Hafwen let out a wistful sigh and gestured to him. "This is Dinky. He's one of the runts of this pack, but tough as a bulwark. But..." she let out a soft grunt as she pushed the boy back into his bunk. Dinky smacked his lips and turned over, his forward-turning horns leaving an indent in the pillow. "He needs a little looking after."

In the next cot slept another charr of similar size and fur, but a softer face, backwards-turning horns, and less stock. "This is Rowan. Smart, but don't take him too seriously. He's the other runt in the family, sort of the de facto boss right now." Hafwen saw a small smile cross Ferrus' face at her description. "You don't gotta worry about being a runt here," she told him, placing a paw on his shoulder. "It doesn't mean a thing to most of us."

After that, the cots seemed to fly by, with Ferrus' smile growing more and more warm with each description. "Here's Euryale; she's a bit of a stiff, not much humour, but nobody else will tell it like you is. She's a real sweetie. This one's Clawspur; bit of a jerk sometimes, but he doesn't mean it, so just tell it to him straight if he's pissing you off. Maverick here's got a big ego, but I've never met a sweeter charr." Hafwen's stalker interrupted them by leaping into an empty cot, yawning widely and looking at them with big eyes. "Ugh Strider, I'll be in bed in a minute."

Hafwen directed Ferrus to a cot with a larger charr with deep orange fur. "This is Forge. He's the oldest, can be kind of a jerk, but it's just like Clawspur: tell him to back off and he should. If he doesn't, tell me and I'll knock his head in for ya." Hafwen smiled as Ferrus tried to suppress a chuckle behind his hand. "This one's Reeva. She's my best bud here in the fahrar; super funny and loves my cooking. Awesome wit." Another orange charr, smaller than the last. "This here's Howl. Kick-ass warrior type guy with a history of mischief almost as long as mine!"

Ferrus pointed to another cot down the way with a lightly snoring charr. Nearly as large as Forge, with pale white fur and a black sooty mark over his face. "Who's that?"

"That...is Arteus. Remember how I said being a runt didn't matter? Most of us will joke around about it but not actually mean anything by it. Arteus is different." She shook her head and looked at him. "I mean, he's cool once you get to know him, but he's always fighting with Rowan 'cause he thinks Rowan is too much of a big shot for trying to call the shots. He's a real alpha-type guy." She looked at Ferrus through the side of her eyes. "With Forge or Clawspur I can knock their heads in. With him...I could, but it won't help you. If he pisses you off or comes after you in any way, the only way to make him back off is to kick his ass yourself."

"But he's so big..."

"Pfft, size don't mean nothing," Hafwen scoffed. "I'm smaller than him and knock his ass in the dirt all the time. Besides, he's a necromancer; dangerous sure, but he can't take a hit to save his life." She led Ferrus over to an empty cot between Rowan and Euryale and patted it. "Here's where you'll be sleeping. Don't worry about sleeping in, we'll make sure you're up on time." With a bright smile and cheerful whisper "Good night!", she marched over to her bed and plopped right beside Strider, who was in the middle of a big yawn.

Ferrus returned to the entrance and grabbed his sack, taking great care to move slowly and quietly while he did. As he put the sack down he couldn't help flinching: from within there was a clattering sound (he imagined it was his wrench and a few nuts, maybe his prototype deployable turret). He cast an eye over to Rowan and Euryale, but neither seemed fazed by the sound, so he simply climbed into his new cot and pulled the covers over him. A nervousness settled in his stomach for what was to come, but eventually exhaustion from the day overtook him and he drifted off into a deep slumber.

* * *

"MORNING SLEEPYHEAD!"

"Gah!" Ferrus yelped as the shout woke him, only to jump up and knock the looming Hafwen in the head with his horn.

Hafwen fell back, stars dancing in her eyes, but she waved off Ferrus' hushed attempts at apologies. "No-no, my fault," she mumbled, rubbing her skull.

"Good thing you have a thick head!"

Hafwen turned behind her to the source of the voice. "Shut it, Arteus," she grumbled. Standing behind her was Arteus, the sooty-faced pale-furred necromancer-in-training. He had a satisfied smirk on his face, but was clearly in jest. Hafwen turned back to Ferrus only for Arteus to interject again.

"Who's the new meat? Looks like a twerp."

"Arteus, honey," Hafwen said sweetly. It was with a lightning fast hand that she grabbed his horn and pulled his face down to her. "You really should keep that trap shut before I rip off this horn and shove it where the sun don't shine."

"She'll do it, too," another voice called. Walking towards them was a larger charr with deep orange-brown fur in red robes and light steel armor. He walked up to Ferrus and held out his hand, a charming smile on his face. "Hey there kid, name's Maverick. Best warrior in the warband, gonna be the best in the whole Blood Legion!"

"Um," Ferrus mumbled and timidly grabbed Maverick's hand. Part of him wanted to mention that Hafwen had sort of introduced him to Maverick the night before, but he couldn't figure out how to say it. So instead he opted for: "Nice to meet you, Maverick sir...I'm Ferrus."

Maverick let out a belly laugh and shook Ferrus' hand. "Hah, listen to this kid, he called me 'sir'!" He clapped his other hand on Ferrus' shoulder and said, "I love the respect kid, but there ain't no sirs in this warband. 'Cept Rowan, but that's cuz he's our boss, an' he hates being called sir, so we just do it to tease him."

"Rowan ain't the boss of me," Arteus growled, despite the hold that Hafwen had on his horn. "He's a big-headed big shot who ain't got the guts to-"

"Something to say, Arteus?"

They turned to see Rowan and Dinky entering the dormitory silo. Hafwen released a grumbling Arteus, who seemed to seethe. Rowan split from Dinky and walked up to Arteus. The height difference made it clear to Ferrus: with Rowan more than a head shorter than Arteus and a smaller frame in his chainmail hauberk, the young charr was obviously a runt. Yet in spite of this, Rowan stood right in front of Arteus, his head tilted up with a fierce look on his face. "'Cos if you wanna go, now's the time. Not here to be the boss, but if you got better ideas, you're gonna have to speak up."

"Listen here you little runt," Arteus growled, holding his gaze. "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do, just 'cause the primus thinks you're all that and a bag of bolts."

"Then don't. While we're off-duty you're free to do whatever makes you happy. But if we're boots on the ground, then till the primus says otherwise, I'm in charge. You got an issue with it, take it up with the him." Arteus huffed but said nothing to Rowan's challenge. Instead, Arteus pushed past him to the dormitory, where Clawspur stood leaning against the doorjamb.

Ferrus hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until Maverick clapped a hand on his shoulder and knocked it out of him. "Hey there bud, chill out, hah! Nothing to be worried about." Maverick tapped his head and jerked it towards Arteus. "Those two go at it so much it's just another day at the office. So, what brings you to the warband?"

Caught a little off guard at being asked such a question in such a direct manner, Ferrus stumbled a bit for an answer. "Um, well...I, uh, left my last fahrar."

"You don't say?" another charr, the other bright orange one from last night - Forge, Hafwen had called him - came walking up. "Gotta say kid, that's pretty surprising to hear. Why, Maverick and I thought you'd fallen out of the sky!" Ferrus frowned but Forge and Maverick laughed a bit. "Ah don't worry kid, just razzin' ya. Name's Forge, one of two on the team learning how to be an elementalist. I..." He frowned and looked around him. "I don't see Euryale around, wonder where the little stoneface got to. So," he continued, returning his gaze to Ferrus, "why did you leave your last fahrar?"

"Well," Ferrus said, "I didn't really fit in with any of the other warbands that I'd been in. They were all angry that they got stuck with a runt, so...yeah..."

Maverick scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. "Ah don't worry about that here, Rowan and Dinky are the runts of our bunch and Rowan would hand us our tails if we stepped out of line."

"I thought the two of you were going to spar till one of you collapsed yesterday," Hafwen said to Maverick.

Maverick buffed his claws on his sleeve. "Yeah well, I'm not about to let a little guardian one-up me without a good fight!"

"But he did," Forge pointed out.

"Details." Maverick waved a dismissive hand at them. "Rowan didn't beat me, we fought to a stalemate. I didn't want to make things too easy by taking away his shield, I let him keep his defenses, but he couldn't outpower me and all my raw awesomeness!" Maverick pumped his arms at this, laughing loudly and clapping Ferrus on the back. "Stick with me kiddo, I'll show ya how to be the best warrior you can be. Not quite as good as me, but..."

"I'm uh, not studying to be a warrior," Ferrus interjected. He leaned down to open the satchel at the side of his cot, revealing a host of gadgets and gizmos. "I'm actually studying how to engineer weapons for the Blood Legion. I think I've come up with a great little device that we can use for storing and deploying turrets, and-"

"Did I hear the word 'engineer'?" a female voice called from outside. Not five seconds later the large female Hafwen had identified as Reeva came bounding into the room with a wide grin on her face. "Ooooo, I'm an engineer too! Name's Reeva, whatcha got kiddo?"

A shy sort of glee spread across Ferrus' features as he slid out of his cot and started rummaging through his sack. "Oh, lots of stuff! I've been working on a prototype grenade that...well, is there a target range around that I can demonstrate on?"

"Sure is," Rowan said. "Grab your pack and armor and we'll head there now."

Ferrus stood and slung his pack over his shoulders. "Oh uh, sorry but I don't have armor. I mostly wear sorta light leather, but that set got taken from me before I transferred fahrars..."

"Oooo", Hafwen exclaimed, "I can help with that! I've been learning some basic leatherworking and stuff, it'd be great practice!"

"Oh wow, you sure? I mean it takes a lot of work."

Hafwen scoffed. "Pfft, it'll be simple. I'll take your measurements later!"

"Come on Ferrus," Rowan waved, "Let's go see those prototype grenades in action."

* * *

The target range was much larger than Ferrus was used to. There were primuses everywhere, each overlooking a young warband. This was also the most diverse fahrar Ferrus had ever seen - all three Legions had young warbands being trained here, but Iron was the dominant force by far. Seeing many young Iron soldiers testing out their own weapons sent nervous chills up Ferrus' spine.

Ferrus flinched as Maverick clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on kid, let's see those badass bombs of yours!"

As Ferrus started rummaging through his pack again, a pale-furred charr with a dark grey mane and four sharp forward-turning horns came up and gave Ferrus a puzzled gaze. "Hey, you new around here? Can't say I've seen you around the 'band before."

Something clicked in Ferrus' head and he remembered seeing this charr during Hafwen's introductions last night. "Um, yeah. I'm called Ferrus. I...what's your name?"

Maverick walked over and socked the other charr in the gut, forcing him to double over. "This guy's Howl," Maverick said. Any further comments were cut off as Howl tackled Maverick in the midriff and sent them both to the ground in a tussle.

"Ignore them," Reeva said with a roll of her eyes, "They're just being dorks. Let's see these grenades!"

Ferrus cast another uncertain glance to the roiling fur that was Maverick and Howl, but pulled out a belt with grenades hanging off it by the pins. "Okay so, um, these are my prototype grenades." He looked around and sighted a free target dummy, then pulled an ice-blue grenade from his belt. Ferrus threw the grenade hard, and as soon as it impacted the ground near the dummy it exploded in a shower of ice, leaving the ground frozen and the base of the dummy covered in ice.

"So, as you can see, my grenades are a little different. I have some normal exploding ones, but I've been tinkering with them. At the cost of reduced explosion power I can put neat little hidden things inside, like liquid nitrogen, nitrous oxide, or..." He threw another grenade which exploded in a burst of flying metal, ripping the dummy to shreds. "I can add additional shrapnel." He turned back to the group and smiled shyly when he saw their expressions.

'Impressed' was an understatement for some of them. Maverick and Howl clambered over each other furiously.

"I wanna throw one!"

"No way, I gotta!"

Frustrated, Hafwen stalked over and grabbed them both by their manes. "Shut up guys, they're Ferrus' toys."

"And they're not ready for field deployment yet," Ferrus admitted. "I'm trying to get a larger area of effect."

Rowan nodded. "Got it, don't touch the bombs. Gotta say kid, those are some cool bombs you got there."

Ferrus made to wax on them, but was interrupted as he heard Primus Sharphorn's voice approaching. "Alright warband, stop laying about and form up on me!"

Ferrus was shocked as the warband dropped everything in their haste to obey, and he hurriedly stuffed his remaining grenades back into his sack as he struggled to keep up. However, with his attention on the bag in his hands and not in front of him, it was no wonder that he collided head-to-back with someone in front of him.

The charr grunted and turned. Ferrus was relieved to see that it was Dinky he had bumped into, and he accepted a helping hand from the guardian-to-be. Ferrus opened his mouth to thank Dinky but the older bandmate shushed him and pointed to the front, where the primus stood glaring at him. Ferrus snapped to attention with Dinky, his eyes turned up into the sky.

"That's better," Sharphorn muttered. "By now you've all noticed that we have a new recruit with us. You'll have plenty of time to get to know him on today's assignment. At ease for briefing." The warband slackened their stiff and straight stances and turned their eyes to their primus, who gestured to the rolls at his left. "Beside me you'll find sleeping rolls. Once briefing has concluded, you will be leaving the fahrar for your first solo detail.

"As you are aware, the south of Smokestead is hostile territory. The area - called Victor's Presidium - plays host to wild animals. There are also human ruins which host dozens of ghosts. Your job is simple: you will survive the week."

If the surprise on Ferrus' face was noticed by the primus, Sharphorn did not show it. Ferrus raised a hand and cleared his throat. "Um...sir, isn't that...dangerous?"

"Of course it is, cub," Sharphorn grunted. "But I believe in trial by fire. By now, you have all been exposed to different scenarios and trained in theory, but that's not going to save you out there. You need to learn by doing.

"But that doesn't mean I want you taking unnecessary risks," the primus continued, pacing in front of the band. "You will set camp on the plateau to the north of the Decimus Stones. Under no circumstances are you to enter the area - the ghosts keep to themselves around the stones and do not wander from the area, but they will guard the stones with their afterlives." He turned to glare at all of them. "You are not to enter the area. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir!" the warband chorused.

"Good. Grab your gear and ship out."

* * *

If Ferrus knew one thing, it was that he was not going to remain plump while in this warband. The march from the fahrar through the citadel and the neighbouring town of Smokestead was thankfully done on neither an empty stomach nor at the pace which Hafwen had set the previous night. Nonetheless, as the warband started pitching tents and setting up camp upon the plateau, Ferrus found himself distinctly wheezy.

"Jeez kid," Dinky mumbled, holding up the poles for Ferrus to wrap with cloth, "You gotta lose weight. We'll fix that up."

Ferrus sent him an irritated look but cast the cloth over the poles anyways. "Yeah sure," he muttered back. He looked over his shoulder to where Rowan, Hafwen, and Forge were setting rocks in a ring. Rowan set down his stone and knelt on the ground, pulling a parchment from within his armor. "Okay, so...got the fire pit, tents are being pitched. Just need to hunt for food and get some firewood." He looked up and over to Arteus, Maverick, and Howl. "Alright guys, we need you three to go out and get some firewood. See what you can find in the next hour or so; I don't want you caught out in the woods when the sun starts going down."

"You ain't our boss," Arteus shot back from his perch on a ledge. "You go get the firewood."

Ferrus looked over to Rowan, whose jaw was clenched. Rowan closed his eyes; Ferrus imagined that Rowan was counting in his head or doing something else to push down the ire that was clearly present. "Arteus," Rowan said levelly, "We need wood for a fire. It's not going to walk over to us on little stick legs and happily throw itself into the pit."

"So have someone else get it."

"You have been sitting on your tail since we got here." The ice in his tone was apparent - all eyes in the band were now looking at him or Arteus, who sat on his ledge with an arrogant smirk. "The rest of us have been busting ours to get camp set up before nightfall and we still have work to do. Go get firewood with Maverick and Howl, or go back to the fahrar."

Arteus slipped off his perch and stalked over to stand glaring down at Rowan. "And who's gonna make me, you?" He let out a deliberate scoffing laugh. "You're barely up to my shoulders, tiny."

Rowan rose from his position and glared back up at Arteus. "And what do you propose we do to make sticking it out easier, huh? We're here for the next seven days. We can't go back to Smokestead for supplies."

Arteus turned and threw up his arms in a mocking shrug. "I say every charr for themselves. I can survive just fine on my own."

"That's not the point of this exercise," Hafwen cut in.

"Far as I heard it, our only objective is to survive." Arteus snorted and sat back against the cliff face. "Never said anything about having to do it together."

Hafwen opened her mouth to say something but Rowan beat her to it. He stalked over to Arteus and stood over him, glaring down. "Get up."

"You can't make me-AH!" Arteus yelled as Rowan grabbed his serrated horn and pulled down, slamming him throat-down into the dirt.

Rowan kept his hand on Arteus' horn as he ground out, "You listening now? You're gonna go get wood with the others, or I'm going to drag your insufferable ass of a face right back to the fahrar and throw you in lockup."

Arteus roared out and twisted suddenly, throwing Rowan off balance and giving him an opening to punch straight into Rowan's unarmored stomach. As he stood he dealt out a hard uppercut, sending Rowan sprawling. "Whatcha gonna do, RUNT?" Arteus knelt over Rowan, sprawled out on his back, and pulled him up by the collar. A grin crossed his face when he saw a line of blood trailing from Rowan's muzzle.

"Let. Him. Go." Arteus looked up to see Hafwen with an arrow nocked in her bow, pointed straight at him.

He laughed. "Ha! Hahaha! That's so cute." He looked back down at Rowan, who was coming around from his daze. "Gotta get the bigger ones to fight your battles for you huh?"

Arteus didn't expect Rowan to grab his horn again, but that's exactly what Rowan did. Rowan also thrust his head up as he pulled Arteus' down, striking a headbutt squarely between the eyes. As Arteus fell to the side, dazed, Rowan stood up and waved Hafwen down. "Get back. This has been a long time coming." He reached down and grabbed Arteus by his collar and pulled him up. "Get up. I'm gonna kick your ass so hard..."

Arteus shoved him off and swayed on his feet, but glared back nonetheless. "Dream on, tiny."

"See, it's not my pride on the line. You're the one that just got knocked senseless by a runt, right?"

"Shut up!" Arteus lunged forward and swung for Rowan's face, which the smaller charr easily dodged. Arteus roared out and swung again, but was shocked when Rowan caught his wrist and ducked under it, slamming his fist into Arteus' kidney. Arteus reeled back clutching his midriff, coughing and spluttering.

"You ready to listen? Or does the runt have to knock you around a bit more?"

Arteus heard grumblings from the other members of the warband. "I'll show you, you fucking runt!" He grabbed his dagger from his side and lunged forward, sweeping it crosswise in a reverse grip.

Rowan ducked again. The warband gasped and he heard them drawing their weapons. He reached up and grabbed Arteus' wrist in the middle of a downward swing. "Stay back!" he roared to the rest of the warband. Keeping his eyes locked on Arteus', he said, "The big bad Arteus isn't finished getting his ass kicked by tiny little Rowan." He swerved around behind Arteus, dragging the bigger charr's wrist with him, and pushed it up into a firm lock behind Arteus' back. Arteus let out a gasp of pain and dropped the dagger. "Done yet?"

"Gonna rip you apart!"

Rowan responded by bending his thumb and digging his knuckle into the inside of Arteus' wrist. As Arteus cried out, Rowan growled up to him, "Pressure points hurt like an SOB don't they?" Rowan reached his other hand up to Arteus' collarbone and pressed his knuckles deep into it. Arteus cried out again and collapsed to his knees.

"Rowan, stop!" Maverick came up behind Rowan and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're really hurting him."

Rowan looked at Maverick. The larger charr was looking at him with an urgent, concerned expression. At a nod from Maverick, Rowan turned back to Arteus and released him. "..." Maverick led a silent Rowan away, passing the rest of the warband and not even sparing Arteus a second glance.

Ferrus didn't realize his breath had been hitched; for a few moments he had to consciously remind himself to breathe. The warband went back to setting up camp. Forge took the responsibility of getting together a gathering party, decidedly leaving Arteus to lick his wounds, but Ferrus heard him distinctly say lowly to Arteus, "We're gonna talk later."

For his part, Ferrus accompanied Hafwen, Reeva, and Clawspur in a hunting party. Each of them had a weapon in hand - Hafwen and Clawspur favoured their shortbows, while Reeva and Ferrus each had a pistol.

"Arteus is a stupid dummy," Hafwen muttered.

"He's old fashioned is all," Clawspur said. "And he's got Maverick's ego, but without the good-natured part."

"Not just boastful but prideful," Reeva supplied.

"Exactly," Clawspur replied. "I mean, it's not TOO surprising, right? It took Dinky clocking me upside the head before I really started to think runts weren't worth it. Just natural to think the smaller ones are weaker."

"Nature's got nothing to do with it," Hafwen muttered, "It's a personality flaw." Clawspur and Reeva nodded, and Hafwen continued, "And Primus Sharphorn doesn't take any of that crap either. He'd have ripped Arteus a new one if the dummy had tried that in training."

"Um, guys," Ferrus spoke up. They all looked at him. "Shouldn't we be, um, hunting? We're a bit loud, might spook the deer."

Clawspur ruffled Ferrus' head. "Probably a good call kid, we're going to need food."

* * *

Around the fire the sour mood had begun to dissipate. Rowan was still quiet, but was clearly making an effort to put the events of this morning behind him, bantering as he was with Dinky and Howl. Arteus still had a gloom about him, but was talking with Forge just as he'd been told.

Ferrus took a big bite of the moa leg he'd cooked just as Maverick plopped beside him on his log. "Heya kid, what's cookin'?"

"Um, moa leg?"

A snort exploded from Maverick's face and he doubled over in laughter. "Ah kid," he said, wiping a fake tear from his eye, "you crack me up." He threw an arm around Ferrus and smiled. "You an' me, we'll get along just great. I'm glad you came into the warband."

"Really?" Ferrus said quietly, a distinct heat rising aruond his nose and ears. "Wh-what makes you say that?"

"You're funny, smart, cute, inventive, and know that I'm the best warrior in the band!"

"Y-yeah, you really came on top in the fight with Howl-ah wait, um...cute?" At this point, Ferrus was unsure if the heat in his face was from indignance or embarrassment. "What do you mean by-"

"Hey froobs, mind if we join ya?" Dinky sat down beside Maverick and Rowan beside Ferrus.

"Figured we'd save you from Maverick's moa-cocking," Rowan muttered to Ferrus. Ferrus nodded as the flush under his fur began to fade.

"Pfft," Maverick scoffed, "Ain't nothing wrong with showing the world how awesome I am, cuz I am awesome."

"You alright from earlier Rowan?" Ferrus asked, turning back to Rowan. "I mean, you looked pretty shaken up."

Rowan looked over to Arteus and then back to Ferrus. "I'm...okay. I shouldn't have lost my temper the way I did, but what's done is done. In the end, Arteus did need to be taught a lesson in humility, and that's what happened. I just started losing control, which is why Maverick stepped in." He looked over at Maverick and smiled. "Thanks for that."

"Hey, I didn't wanna have to take care of Arteus for the next week cuz of a broken limb or something," Maverick dismissed. "Nursemaid I am not." He stole a glance over to the three females chatting animatedly across the fire. "'Scuse me guys, I've got a prank to play." He leaned down and bumped Ferrus' head softly before getting up.

Ferrus' eyes widened as they followed the form of Maverick as he disappeared into the shadows. "Did...did he just..."

Rowan had an impressed look. "Yeah, he did. He must think you're cute."

"Robbing the cradle aren't you Maverick!" Dinky shouted after him, but no response came (much to Ferrus' relief).

Ferrus looked back to Rowan, keeping his reddened ears downturned. "So, um...who should take first watch?"

"We'll be taking the watch in pairs. First up will be Arteus and I. We'll wake up the next detail when our two hours is done."

"Is that a good idea?"

"You mean me and Arteus? Yeah, the two of us need to have a proper talk. Or at least, I have to try."

"Alright then." Ferrus looked up at the dark, cloudy sky above them. "I'm gonna turn in, but wake me up if you want me take a watch, 'kay?"

"Will do."

Ferrus threw his bones into the fire and went to the tent that he and Dinky had erected. With his bedroll set up and his eyes drifting closed, he was set to enter a deep sleep within minutes. Until-

"AHHHHHH" Several screams rang out, jerking Ferrus out of his reverie.

"MAVERICK!" Ferrus heard Euryale's enraged shriek clearly and grumbled, covering his ears and once more trying to drift to sleep.

* * *

Ferrus woke the next morning, unsure of what had transpired between Rowan and Arteus. Though still irate and snappish, Arteus was less antagonistic - he mostly ignored Ferrus and seemed to interact amiably enough with the rest of the warband.

"Shut it Clawspur and just give me my damn eggs."

Well, Ferrus thought, relatively amiable anyways.

Most of the day passed in relative silence, and when he wasn't on patrol with a group, he was tinkering on the makeshift workbench he had set up against a rocky outcrop. Beside him on the workbench were his tools and projects, as well as discarded wooden dishes with half-eaten moa leg and sourbread crumbs. At his front was a strange glove, large enough to reach up the arm to the elbows and outfitted with metallic gadgetry. His claws gripped the metal-plated glove as he tightened a short screw on a bulbous dome atop the hand of the glove, connected with wires to a firing mechanism on the forearm outfitted with what appeared to be an arrow-tipped wire.

"What's that you got there?"

Ferrus jumped as the voice startled him out of his reverie, fumbling about in an attempt to keep his glove from falling on the ground and breaking. He looked over his shoulder to see Reeva and Clawspur standing behind him. The female engineer had her head dipped to Ferrus' left, peeking around to see the gadget he was working on.

"Don't do that," Ferrus grumbled, setting the glove on the bench. "It's a prototype gauntlet I'm working on. Helps go horn-to-horn with elementalists and stuff. Maybe even ghosts."

"How's it do that?" Clawspur rumbled.

"I...don't want to get into it yet," Ferrus murmured. "It's still in the early stages, haven't even tested it yet."

Clawspur nodded, but Reeva was less willing to forego her curiosity. "Nonono, you gotta tell me how it works! Engy to engy, bandmate to bandmate!"

"Leave him alone," Clawspur said with a shrug. "No point in knowing how to use it if it don't work, right kid?"

"Well um..."

"NO!" Reeva shouted, rounding on Clawspur. "It's about the plan! Ugh, you're not a designer, you wouldn't understand!" She turned to Ferrus with wide, hungry eyes. "Come on buddy, how's it do? I can help ya!"

"Um, don't you have some projects of your own?" Ferrus ventured.

"Yeah but I finished it this week, just a pistol mod. Come ooonnnnnn, don't make me beg!"

"Too late," Clawspur quipped. He had clearly been through the rounds before, as he caught Reeva's hand by the wrist mid-slap. "Nice try."

Reeva huffed and jerked her hand back. "Come on Ferrus, please?"

Ferrus sighed. "Alright, you can help if you want..." He covered his ears as Reeva crowed out and shot into place right beside him.

"Sweet. What are these wires for? What's the dome? Why's the hose not connected to anything? What's with the string-harpoon thingy? What's thi-AH!" Reeva screamed and ducked as the arrow-tipped wire mounted on the arm of the glove blasted out, latching onto a nearby tree. The force of the impact shook a few autumn leaves out of the tree, and a pair of squirrels shot off, chittering angrily.

Ferrus reached over and pushed a green pad on the lower palm of the glove; the wire snapped taut as it was tugged back, snapping out of the tree trunk with a loud report. "That," Ferrus muttered, "is what we have the dome for." He inspected the glove, paying particular attention to the hose under the wrist before he tugged it on. He rubbed the small dome and said, "This is a battery pack. The battery pack can store a hundred thousand volts. You fire the wire like this..." He sighted down his arm with his index and middle claw outstretched, then used his ring and small claws to press the green pad on his palm. The arrow embedded itself in the tree again. Ferrus clenched his hand into a fist, and a small explosion burst where the tip stuck into the bark.

"If that were an animal, it would have been shocked with a thousand volts."

"Oooohh!" Reeva cooed, watching the cord wind again.

"The exposure is short," Ferrus said as the arrow snapped back into the firing mechanism atop his wrist. "However, hit them in the right spot and you can fry them. At the very least, you can distract 'em for a killing blow." He pulled the glove off and set it back on the workbench. "It's meant to level the playing field with fire and lightning elementalists." He turned the glove over and patted the hose. "This is supposed to be a flamethrower. Still needs fine-tuning though, right now it would only release small bursts of flame."

"This could cause SOOOO much damage!" Reeva jumped up and down gleefully, a giddy grin on her face. "What are you using as a fuel source?"

To Ferrus' delighted surprise, he and Reeva spent the rest of the day tinkering with his design. It was with great frustration that he took the first night shift with Forge, expressly forbidden from working on the glove while the rest of the warband was asleep.

After grumbling for the umpteenth time and looking over his glove - which he had insisted on wearing for his shift, despite being unable to hook up his napalm to the hose - Forge walked over and lightly bumped the bottom of a fist on Ferrus' head. "Stop grumbling kid," Forge said, plopping down beside him on the log. "You'll wake up the ghosts."

"Hmph," Ferrus grumbled again. Turning to Forge and feeling unusually brazen, he asked, "So what's your story?"

"Story?"

"Yeah, story." Ferrus started ticking off his claws. "Arteus has a complex, Hafwen's crazy, Rowan's the boss, Maverick's the ego..."

Forge had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loud. "Wow, that's some list you got there. Can't sum us up in a word though, kid"

"Maybe not," Ferrus acknowledged, "but each of you seems to be...defined. Like even me, feels like I'm gonna be the tinkerer just like I used to be in my old fahrar."

"Well," Forge said, looking over at the tents, "Not sure I have much of a story to tell. Oldest cub in our 'band, I like to make folks laugh when I can, but mostly I just play the level head. Rowan's too self-righteous, Arteus is too prideful...I guess if you want a word for me, it'd be the balancer?"

"Team dad."

Forge laughed again. "Hah! Sure Ferrus, whatever you say." His ears perked up and he sat straight as a pin, listening keenly. Suddenly he shot up, grabbing his staff. "Get up kid, grab your weapons." Forge thrust his staff at the fire, blasting it with a spout of water. "Wake up everyone, quietly. I can hear voices. Human voices."

Ferrus obeyed and grabbed his shield from a nearby log, leaping into action. He crawled quietly into Maverick's tent and shook him awake, clapping a hand over his friend's mouth. "Shh. Humans around, might be ghosts."

He turned around as Maverick's eyes widened and screamed as he came face-to-face with the misty blue face of an Ascalonian ghost. On instinct Ferrus thrust his shield up, bashing the ghost in the face and sending it reeling backwards. He heard a roar and saw a light flare in the sky. As he leapt out of the tent, he saw a dozen ghosts stalking towards them from the open ground. The warband was assembling in a staggered formation. Rowan, Maverick, Howl, and Dinky stood at the front with their shields held forward and weapons at the ready.

"Wait for it," Rowan growled. "Don't attack yet. Wait for my command..."

A ghost leapt up the plateau with a ghostly wail, only to find itself impaled by Rowan and Maverick's swords. With a roar and a downward slash, Maverick beheaded the ghost, its form dissipating as it collapsed to the ground. "Hold he line!" Howl shouted.

"STRIKE!" Rowan roared.

Without thinking, Dinky thrust his fist forward and pushed the pad on his glove, sending the arrow-tipped wire shooting forward. It struck a ghost through the midriff, and the ghost let out a hollow cry as the current passed through it, stunning it just in time for a fireball from Euryale to strike it square in the face. Ferrus heard Forge's roar and a burst of flame exploded around a ghost, who cried out and began to roll on the ground as the flames engulfed him.

"KEEP IT COMING!" Rowan cried, blocking a ghost's sword on his round shield. Hafwen's pet Strider leapt on the ghost, hissing and yowling as it scratched at its face, only to dodge aside as an arrow from Hafwen's bow came sailing by to affix itself between the ghost's eyes.

Before long, a dull blue fog seemed to pervade the camp, the remnants of the ghost assault team swirling through the air. Arteus sunk his daggers into the stomach of the last ghost, roaring as he disemboweled the cursed human. The whole warband stood heaving, adrenaline pumping through their veins. Euryale, Rowan, Maverick, and Howl lay clutching their sides, having been struck by the ghosts' blades. Forge and Dinky crouched over them, using their magics to stave off the effects of the ghost weapons.

"I can't...we...we can't fix this on our own," Forge stammered.

"We need to get them to a chirurgeon," Arteus said, crouching down beside them. "Clawspur, go to the Black Citadel and alert the chirurgeons that there are wounded cubs incoming. We'll carry them as far as we can, but they need to know first. Get back as soon as you let them know, we'll need help."

"Got it," Clawspur said. Without another word he pulled out a torch and dashed back towards Smokestead and the Citadel entrance.

"Maverick!" Hafwen yelled. She pressed a palm to the underside of his neck. "No pulse!"

Dinky knelt down and hammered Maverick's chest. "Dammit, get up!"

"That's not going to work!" Hafwen shrieked, shoving him out of the way.

"We need electricity!" Reeva said. She withdrew her pistol and gestured towards herself in a panic. "Ferrus, c'm'ere, I need your zapper arrow. Forge, you too, we need all the electricity." She turned to Ferrus and said. "Can you control the flow?"

"No!" Ferrus cried. "There's no way to do that, it's not adjustable!"

"Okay, then we'll do this another way." She grabbed the arrow and jammed it into Maverick's chest. "Forge, grab the wire, you'll control the flow of electricity. Ferrus, hit it."

Forge looked at Reeva with a shocked expression. "What? You sure that's gonna work?"

"Yes, now do it." Ferrus pressed and held down his trigger pad, letting the battery drain into the wire. Forge's eyes went wide as he struggled to control the flow of electricity with his lightning magic, heaving as he forcibly filtered it through his body.

"More..." At Reeva's command, Forge let out a sharp breath. She began to compress Maverick's chest. "Come on buddy...Forge, more power!" Forge obeyed and Maverick's body jerked. Reeva's eyes widened and she put her hand to Maverick's neck. "He-he's breathing! His heart's beating!" She jerked the wire out of his chest and hugged him tight.

Forge stood up and thrust his staff into the air, directing the energy pent up in his body skyward in a flash of lightning. He fell back on his tail with a thud, heaving. "Wow...didn't...think that...would work..."

* * *

Ferrus, Arteus, and Forge held vigil at the door to the field chirurgeon's tent which held their fallen friends, the makeshift stretchers they had cobbled together laying in shambles meters away. The others had returned to their fahrar quarters, recuperating from their ordeal.

All three of the cubs looked up as the tall chirurgeon stepped out of the tent. She looked back at them and said, "You cubs were either very lucky or very smart. Your bandmates will be fine, they just need some rest. We've treated their ghost wounds. They're not severe, but they'll be off their paws for a couple days."

"Can we see them?" Forge asked.

"Yes, but only for a little while. The more rest they get, the better off they'll be."

The three cubs walked into the tent as the chirurgeon held open the flap. Euryale and Howl waved at them weakly, which Forge responded to by stalking over to them and growling at them, "Next time you pull that I'm gonna torch your skin."

Arteus stood at the foot of Rowan's cot. The smaller charr's chest rose and fell, but his eyes were closed. "What's wrong with Rowan?"

The chirurgeon came up behind him. "He took a major shock to the heart. The ghost blade seems to have barely missed it, but it was enough to deal enough damage to render him unconscious. He falls in and out of consciousness, but he's alive."

Ferrus slipped past the silent Arteus and alongside Maverick's bed. The orange charr had a weak smile on his face. "Hey kid, how's it look?"

Despite himself, Ferrus laughed. "Oh shut up you lug," he said, swatting Maverick's arm. "Can't see a thing, you'll be up and running in a bit."

"Awesome," Maverick replied. "Can't forge my awesome legacy in a bed, right?" They both laughed. "Chirurgeon said you and Forge saved my tail."

"Reeva too," Ferrus said quickly. "It was all her idea, super quick thinking."

"Yeah, she's almost as good at that as me," Maverick chuckled. "Still bud, you had the tool to get it done, and Forge made sure it didn't fry me. Thanks a lot." He lifted an arm and bumped his fist weakly atop Ferrus' head. "See now, what would have happened if you weren't around?"

"I'd prefer not to think about it, if it's all the same to you," Ferrus muttered.

"No problem kid. But thanks a lot. You saved my ass, and I ain't one to forget that."

The chirurgeon placed a hand on Ferrus' shoulder. "Sorry cub, but you guys will have to leave for now. These four need their rest if they're gonna be back on their paws."

Ferrus nodded and started out when he saw Arteus just standing silently at the foot of Rowan's cot, staring blankly at the rise and fall of Rowan's chest. Ferrus walked up to Arteus and, with only a moment of hesitation, put his hand on Arteus' arm. "Come on, Arteus," he said. "Rowan will be fine. We've gotta go now, though."

Arteus nodded quietly and followed Ferrus out, soon after followed by Forge. All three walked silently back to the fahrar. Forge was the first to enter the dormitories. Ferrus made to follow him, but saw Arteus move towards a shaded corner. Casting one glance into the dormitories, he followed the large ashy charr to his corner. He came upon Arteus sitting down with his back against the wall, a blank stare on his face and knees drawn up.

Ferrus crouched down to Arteus and looked at him. "Hey, are you...alright?" Ferrus ventured.

He was surprised when Arteus shook his head. "No...I'm not."

"Is it because of Rowan? He's gonna be alright."

"No. We could have died last night." The statement came hard and fast. "We almost lost Maverick, we could have lost Rowan..."

"Are you two okay though?"

"Yeah. We talked the other night and did a bit of patching, but I was still really resentful. But after last night...I don't think it's right. Life is too short to stay mad at my brother."

"I thought you two hated each other," Ferrus admitted.

"I'm not sure what it was," Arteus said, looking at Ferrus for the first time. "I mean, it wasn't hate, but...I don't know what it was. Whatever it was, though, I can't let myself stay angry for stupid things."

Ferrus sat beside Arteus and looked at him again. "You know, you made the right call last night. If it weren't for you, we might have lost them."

"It was scary," Arteus admitted, drawing his knees up closer. "Suddenly, it wasn't just telling people what to do. It was being responsible for my family's life." A shudder shook his body. "I was terrified."

The two sat there in silence for a while, simply watching the shadows grow. After a time, Ferrus said, "Hey, why don't we head back to the dorms? We can get some food and be with the rest of the band."

"Good idea." The both of them stood and Arteus looked down at Ferrus with a small smile. "Thanks, Ferrus. Sorry I bitched you out earlier. You're a cool kid."

Ferrus let out a short chuckle. "Thanks."


End file.
